My Tale of Misery
by Juniperfang
Summary: Unlike others, I remember just about every single detail form my kithood, most of my apprentice days, and some parts after that. No, I don't have a photographic memory. Life has just beat me so many times I can't help but count them. (Rated T for some bad deaths and violence. I don't own Warriors, but I own these characters and plot.)
1. Red River

**AN: Well, this my first story on here. It's about my favorite OC and warrior persona, Juniperfang. Rated T for some rough deaths, especially in this chapter.**

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Unlike others, I remember just about every single detail from my kithood, most of my apprentice days, and some parts after that. No, I don't have a photographic memory. Life has just beat me so many times I can't help but count them.

My name is Juniperfang, but I have been known as several different things throughout my life, including some things I probably shouldn't mention. I am a warrior of Forestclan and I have no true my family left. I have a hard time trusting; it takes me at least a half a season to build up even a little trust towards someone.

This is my story. It's not a happy one. I've experienced more misery than most cats feel in a lifetime. Let's start with my kithood, shall we? Here's a hint: it wasn't all playfights and milk.

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Ravensong trudged to the river, dragging a piece of moss with seven tiny kittens on it, all mewing a different rhythm. Her heart was heavy, but deep down she knew it was for the best. The clan couldn't know that she was mother, and they definitely couldn't know who the father was.

The pitch black she-cat turned her attention to the seven crying kits on the moss. The loudest of them, a large tom with grey fur, was beginning to get on her nerve. "Shut up." She said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "Shut up!" She loudly commanded, but her two week son did not obey. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" She screamed, at her wit's end. Several birds flew away and the forest turned quiet, all except her kits. And it only caused her son to meow louder. Tired of his racket, she brought her unsheathed claws down on him, causing blood.

It happened in a blink of an eye. When she raised her paw, her son was dead. Feeling paralyzed, Ravensong stared at her snow white claws, which were now as red as a fox. Her gaze shifted to her scarlet-stained kit that she had brutally murdered.

Ravensong expected for realization to hit. To find out what scarlet really means, the running red that leaves permanent damage to one's heart. But it did not come. No guilt, no sadness, no anger towards herself. Nothing. All that inhabited Ravensong's soul was a feeling of pleasure and revenge.

Maybe that was the way to dispose of her kits, by repaying the pain they caused her. The pain when she found out she was having kits, the pain of knowing she could no longer do what she loved, the pain when she broke up with who she loved. And worst of all, the painful decision of deciding what to do with them.

Her original plan was to put them in a log, float them down the river, and hope that someone found them. But this way was much more gratifying. This way she could control everything. What happened them, how they died, and if they lived.

But she was positive that none of the kittens were going to live. That would just complicate things more. Then she would have to figure out what to do with them, who to give them to, and so forth.

Ravensong picked up the next kit, a black she-cat. She wasted no time swinging her head and releasing her kitten into the icy cold river water, watching her helpless daughter sink into the murky water, while a sick smile spread across her face. The she-kit's mangled cries and gurgles satisfied Ravensong.

Ravensong's twisted smirk grew bigger as she discovered her true nature. Now she knew why she was so fascinated with becoming a medicine cat. The crimson, the death, and how measly and weak cats were right before the end.

Ravensong harshly grabbed a grey tom-kit, nearly identical to his father, which angered her even more. With incredible force for a little kit to take, she swiped her paw quickly, wounding her son. Growling, she threw her kit into the river to drown or bleed out, whichever came first, along with the body of the first kit she killed.

Next, she picked up another black she-kit by her scruff. Ravensong bit down harder and harder as she tasted blood. The she-kit writhed in pain, but Ravensong was too far off in her own world to realize she was murdering a kit, let alone her own. The kit fell motionless and Ravensong heartlessly dropped it as she slowly licked the blood from her lips, savoring the taste.

When a rustle in the bush sounded, Ravensong had no time to prepare. There she stood, painted with red and growling, when Pinestripe, her fellow clanmate, approached. Pinestripe froze, suddenly scared of the supposedly gentle and loving medicine cat. Ravensong didn't care, though. Laughing maniacally, she threw herself into the river, laughing until the water filled her lungs.

Pinestripe was still unsure of what just happened. Instinctually, he rushed over to make sure the remaining kits were unharmed. Sighing in relief, he gathered the living kits in his and took they from the bloody moss. The kits, whose eyes were already open, shrunk back, scared after what they just seen. "It's alright, little ones, I won't hurt you," He cooed. "Don't worry, you won't remember this for long, hopefully."

Feeling an attachment to the kits, Pinestripe decided that they at least deserved names. "You," he said to the grey tom while motioning with his tail. "Will be Blizzardkit. And you," he said, moving on to the black tom. "Will be Spiderkit. And you," he said as he pointed to the grey she-kit. "Will be Juniperkit." Pinestripe nodded, pleased with his names.

Before heading back to camp, Pinestripe looked around with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, like he was being watched. To protect himself and his new family, he let a prayer flow out of his mouth. "Dear Starclan, please keep these kits safe from harm," He prayed.

Determining that it was just his imagination, he shrugged it off and picked up the kits, taking them back to the clan, though the eerie feeling remained, along with confusion.

Little did he now, someone was watching. And they saw everything.


	2. A Mother's Love

**Remember to review! (Or Ravensong will murder you while you sleep! XD)**

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And I grew up with that lie. The lie that Pinestripe was my father and that his mate, Flowershine, was my mother, but my "aunt" Brindlewhisker raised me because Flowershine had no milk.

As soon as I learned my real origins, I felt ashamed of myself. I had always been good at picking out the truth from the lies. Yet, I had missed all the tell-tale signs that my "relatives" really weren't. I had failed to notice mine and my siblings' gray and black pelts, opposed to my "family," who all had brown fur. I failed to notice their bulky builds compared to our slender ones. Worst of all, my supposedly finely tuned ears filtered out all the gossip my clanmates said about me when I passed by.

Anyways, back to the story. Now how 'bout my first days as Pinestripe's kit, shall we?

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Brindlewhisker watched her brother stroll into camp with, to her surprise, three young kits. Every head turned to the one next to it, sharing what they thought of the unusual phenomenon. Even her fellow queen, Willowflight, craned her head to whisper in her ear, "Those don't look like Flowershine's kits."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Brindlewhisker assured, trying to dismiss it. "Those lazy, heartless kittypets drop their kits at the border all the time. Probably just another litter of those." But Brindlewhisker herself was full of questions.

"Pinestripe," Lightningstar's voice boomed as loud as thunder, which Brindlewhisker found ironic for his name. "May I ask who's kits are those?" That was one of Brindlewhisker's biggest pet peeves about him: he always said everything loudly, never giving a thought to the fact it could be a private matter.

But her docile brother paid no mind to it and strode up to the Forestclan leader. "I don't know. I found them near the river. Lucky ones they were, as there were others floating in the river, with bite and claw marks."

Kit murder? Impossible! No loners, kittypets, or even rogues for that matter would dare going near the river, where Forestclan cats swarmed to. Brindlewhisker doubted a lone cat venture to the river, her clan's most prized territory, so it must have been an inside job.

Pinestripe paused for the gasps and gossip to end. "Even worse, Ravensong's body was floating the water. I would have retrieved it, but I wanted to get the kits before whatever killed Ravensong came back."

Now all the pieces fell into place. A medicine cat, untrained in battle, comes to the river to collect herbs. Then a rogue ambushes her, she is left defenceless, the rogue pushes her into the water and begins murdering the kits. An unknowing Pinestripe approaches, the rogue bolts, leaving the deed unfinished.

But something unsettling still lingered in Brindlewhisker's stomach. Ravensong had been acting strange lately. Snapping at others, eating more, and disappearing often for the last two weeks. Though she never admitted it, Ravensong had always seemed kind of unstable to her. Could those kits belong to her? Was she the one who murdered the kits? Did she kill herself?

Pinestripe turned his attention to the nursery before making his way over. But Brightwhisker noticed a change in his stride. His steps became heavier and his posture became stiff, almost like he was regretting what came next. Brindlewhisker was sure that he was fearing her questions.

"Dear sister," Pinestripe said to Brindlewhisker, using the same greeting he used when he wanted a favor from her as kits. Brindlewhisker's multi-colored whiskers for which she was named twitched as she awaited the rest. "Would you _please _be so kind to feed these kits? I know you've been sad since you lost-"

"You must really think I'm awful," Brindlewhisker said, cutting him off with a scoff. "I could never turn away a kit. And besides, Raccoonkit could use some company. Plus, she shouldn't know her siblings die."

Brindlewhisker beconed him closer with her tail. She subtly glanced around just to make sure no one was looking, especially not Willowflight, the biggest gossiper in the clan. "Are they Ravensong's kits?" She asked, as quiet as possible.

Pinestripe took a moment, processing the words she just said, making sure he had heard right. He bit his lip as he drew back, slightly nodding his head. "Yes." He spoke in a tone almost like the secret was his, not Ravensong's. But if Brindlewhisker knew her brother, he would do anything to keep other cats happy.

"Very well then." Brindlewhisker said as if she had just lost an argument, not like she had just found out Forestclan's medicine cat was a kit murderer. "Did she also..." Her voice was lost, almost like it had just dropped off a cliff.

Truthfully, she didn't want to end that sentence. That would be admitting that she had misjudged the situation. That she had convinced herself that her thoughts about Ravensong were just her imagination when they were actually reality. That her dear kithood friend was a cold-blooded murderer.

Pinestripe's solemnly and slowly nodded, almost looking like he regretted answering. Brindlewhisker liked being right, but was sad that her clan let psychopaths like that slip through the cracks.

"Do they have names?" Brindlewhisker asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Pinestripe nodded again for yes and began calling off their names as he pointed to them with his tail. "This one is Spiderkit-" He paused to gesture to the black tom. "Blizzardkit-" He said, reffering to the light gray tom. "And Juniperkit." He pointed to the gray she-kit.

It was then their conversation were interrupted by her two-moon old daughter, Racconkit, who was appropriately named for her white pelt and black stripes. "Mama?" The young she-kit asked in her high-pitched kit voice. "Will these kittens be my siblings?"

"No, honey," Brindlewhisker replied in her soothing, motherly voice. "They'll be your cousins. But you mustn't tell them where they came from; that would only make them sad." She looked to Pinestripe to confirm and he nodded.

Sighing peacefully, Brindlewhisker pulled the kits closer to her, making a silent vow to always protect them. She knew their life would only get worse. After all, that's the downside to living in a clan.


	3. Just an Ounce of Poison Can Kill You

I had never been one to like the company of others. The only thing I ever felt was my mind, where I controlled things. Call me whatever you want, bossy, control freak, overbearing, but that's how I like things. It's my own little world, and I love being there.

Of course, over time, I did gain two pretty amazing close friends, my "cousin" Racconfur and Marshcloud, who I tell more about soon.

Anyway, the first time I found out about my true roots was when I was very young. I should have listened back then. Little did I know, if I would have listened back then, it would have saved me a lot of pain in the future. But I was cursed with stubbornness, and I still am, and I probably always will be. Now, today's tale of misery.

–

Her blue kit eyes stared at the tabby, wide with fear. Being two weeks old when she was found, Juniperkit's eyes had adjusted to the world around her, but even so she had no memories except for a manic laugh and a crimson colored river. She shook slightly, pressing against the not-so-comfortable thicket that surrounded her and many others.

But the tabby she-cat's eyes did not hold any trace of resentment, nor evil, nor sinisterness of any kind. All that she looked at Juniperkit with was love and amusement. "You silly kit," She said playfully with a motherly laugh. "Don't worry, I won't harm you." She came closer, as did Juniperkit, relaxing.

When she saw the tension relieve from the young cat's body, she continued. "I am your aunt, Brindlewhisker," Juniperkit's aunt added. "I will be taking care of you, since your mother, Flowershine, cannot. And that kit is your cousin, my daughter, Raccoonkit. Now, why don't you go play with your brothers?" As she spoke the last few words, she gestured to two tom-kits across the den, who were pawing and pouncing on each other, and a white tabby she-kit batting a ball of moss around with several other kits.

_Aunt? Cousin? Brothers? Too many people!_ Juniperkit thought. So many questions were rushing through her mind. Why couldn't her mother raise her? Who were all the other cats? What was with the weird names? Why did her siblings take so naturally to this way of life?

Making her way over to the group of cats her cousin was included in, Juniperkit watched from the sidelines before shoving her way into the circle. The dark brown tabby she-cat next to her bristled her fur and tried to make herself look taller. In Juniperkit's opinion, she succeeded. "Whatda ya doin'? Huh? Huh?" The brown tabby kit said quickly, bouncing in a hunter's crouch as she said it. "Are you rogue? A loner? Kittypet? Huh? Huh?"

"Marshkit!" As Juniperkit was about to speak, a large ginger tom spoke in a deep voice for a kit. "She's not any of them! She's just some unwanted kit her 'father' found by the river!" All the other kits snickered and stared at her, while Juniperkit shrinked back, trying to hide from the laughter. "See look!" The tom-kit taunted again. "She's embarrassed! A real clan cat would fight!"

With those last words, Juniperkit did just that. She could no longer contain her anger and embarrassment. Leaping towards the bigger kit, she felt her claws unsheathe and her tongue test the sharpness of her teeth. When fur was under her, she wasted no time digging in her small, but still sharp, teeth and claws into the pelt of her opponent.

Juniperkit felt as if she was not in control of her body, her anger was. With every time the mocking jokes replayed in her head, she dug her weapons dipper into the tom-kit. With each scream from her enemy, she felt more satisfied and had the urge to taste blood. With every shriek from the other kits, she was more pleased with herself.

Within a few moments, but felt like an even shorter time for Juniperkit, cats from all around the camp rushed to the rescue. Warriors tried to pry her off, but that just fueled the fire. One particularly rough warrior yanked on her tail, causing a yelp from Juniperkit. In that split second, Juniperkit had been tossed across the den when the warrior hanging onto her went to help the kit she was attacking.

Shaking her fur, Juniperkit rose to her feet. What seemed like the entire clan gathered around the wounded kit. Juniperkit, too, was bleeding and breathing heavily, but the breathing was from her anger. She smirked proudly as she cleaned the blood from her teeth and licked her injuries, which were mostly from the warrior who had jerked her off the tom-kit.

Two brown cats hurried into the nursery, furiously whipping their heads around, looking for something. The smaller one, a light fawn-colored she-cat, flicked her tail in Juniperkit's direction, and she and her companion made their way over.

"Juniperkit!" The brown tom shouted, shoting daggers at her with his eyes. His face was bent into a very angry expression, but Juniperkit honestly didn't care. He was going to yell at her, so what? It wasn't like they could abandon her, she was just a kit!

"My kit!" The she-cat shrieked, tears pouring out of her eyes as the tom stroked her back with his tail. With that, Juniperkit knew who these cats were, and more importantly, why they were so angry. They were Pinestripe and Flowershine, her parents. But Juniperkit just grinned, which made her parents' faces turn even redder with anger.

Pushing her way through the crowd, Brindlewhisker approached. Despite the worried look on her face, she spoke in her regular sweet and calm voice. "May I speak to _her_ in private?" She said the word "her" like it was forbidden to say Juniperkit's actual name. Pinestripe muttered a sarcastic "good luck!" before storming out of the nursery, with Flowershine close behind.

"Why did you attack Eaglekit?" Brindlewhisker asked as if she was a therapist, sitting eye level with Juniperkit. Juniperkit narrowed her eyes into a glare pointed straight at her aunt.

"He said father found me by the river," Juniperkit mumbled. "He said that I was just some random unwanted kit." Juniperkit half-expected Brindlewhisker to give her a few comforting licks, then coax her back to her nest, but she just nodded understandingly.

"Come," Brindlewhisker commanded softly. "Go lie down and I'll go get you some poppy seeds to help you calm down." And with that, she was off, almost like she was avoiding the conversation at hand.

Not in the protesting mood, Juniperkit listened as she set off on her journey to her nest. But before she could reach her distination, a big grey tom stopped her in her tracks. "You little piece of crowfood!" His voice boomed. "Poison! That's just what you are! You could've seriously hurt my son!" After that, the stormy-looking tom marched off.

Ignoring the cold stares of her clan-mates, Juniperkit occupied her nest. She closed her eyes and watched the day over. After all the day's events, the one that haunted her mind the most was Eaglekit's comments. What kind of cat would make up that detailed of a story?

Pushing that thought to the back of her head, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

**Longest chapter yet with 1,221 words! (Not couting the author's note) In honor of that, some author trivia! **

**I have two kittens (actually I have five housecats/kittens and many more outdoor cats because I live on a farm, but let's focus on these two), Elvis and George. Who were they named after?**

**Hints:**

**Both were popular musicians during the 1950s.**

**My favorite songs by them are White Lightning (George) and Blue Suede Shoes. (Elvis)**

**Both are considered legends in their genres. (Country and rock and roll)**

**Yeah... Elvis is kinda easy. But George will probably be a lot harder for most of you!**


	4. Author's Note

I am sorry I haven't updated in a very long time. I have been very busy with my two upcoming musicals contests and I have to study for testing in April. I have also been trying to spend more time with my friends and/or family. Between all these things, I've been very stressed and writing this story didn't help. Again, I'm very sorry for the delay. -Juniperfang P.S. Though, I have found some time to write rough drafts for a couple other stories, so keep an eye out. 


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